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“Never learned that,” answers Casax.

He’s wrapped in an enormous fur. He doesn’t look cold. I notice he’s grown his hair a little longer, and tied it at the back. Casax has a fair complexion, but he’s weatherbeaten, a man who started out at the docks a long time ago and worked his way up. A calm, strong, intelligent man, and very dangerous.

“Having a good time at the Assemblage?”

“The time of my life.”

“Orius tells me you’ve been enjoying yourself,” says Casax.

I’m uncomfortable. A Brotherhood boss doesn’t pay social visits for no reason.

“You’ve been enjoying yourself a lot recently. Rolling around with Lisutaris and Princess Direeva, from what I hear.”

“You’ve been hearing things that are none of your business.”

Casax raises his eyebrows a fraction. Last year I found myself more or less on the same side as Casax in a case involving the chariot races. A fortunate occurrence, and since then the Brotherhood have left me alone. It doesn’t mean much. The Brotherhood are never well disposed towards Investigators.

He leans forward.

“You know anything about the death of a dwa dealer?”

“Which one? They die a lot.”

“Orius here thought he might be able to pick up a little Orcish aura round the death scene.”

I glance at the Sorcerer, then back to Casax.

“So?”

“Your young companion is part Orc. And handy with a sword.”

“Plenty of people are handy with a sword in Twelve Seas. And she’s not the only girl in town with Orc blood.”

Casax glances round the room.

“Is this it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean is this all you have? Tiny rooms full of junk? Furniture fit for a slum?”

“It suits me fine.”

“You don’t have something salted away? Gold in the bank?”

I look at him blankly.

“Why do you do it?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“Investigate.”

“I got thrown out of my last job for being a useless drunk.”

“You could still do better for yourself. Rezox would have paid you to let him go. So would plenty of others. You could live a lot better.”

The Brotherhood boss rises to his feet.

“If you came here to give your pet Sorcerer a chance to see what he could learn, you’re going to be disappointed,” I tell him.

Orius Fire Tamer sneers at me.

“You think you have any power to affect me?”

“I think I could toss a knife in your throat before you got a spell ready, kid.”

Casax almost grins.

“He might, Orius. He’s a tough guy, Thraxas. Not so tough that he’d bother me, but tough enough. When he’s sober.”

He turns to me.

“If your Orc friend killed my dealer I’ll be down on her like a bad spell. Not that I miss the dealer. But I’ve got a position to maintain. You understand.”

They depart. I open my klee. The bottle is almost finished. I make a mental note to buy more. Makri appears.

“Was it about the dealer?”

“So they said. But I think Casax was more interested in what Lisutaris and Direeva were doing here. He won’t learn anything from Orius. That runt isn’t going to get through a hiding spell cast by Lisutaris. What’s the kid think he’s doing, linking up with the Brotherhood? When I was his age—”

“Thraxas,” says Makri, loudly. “Be quiet. I have something important to tell you.”

“If this is about See-ath, I don’t—”

“It’s not about See-ath. It’s about Samanatius. They’re trying to evict him.”

“What?”

“The landlord wants to demolish the block. He’s using the collapse of the aqueduct as an excuse. He’s been trying to get rid of Samanatius and the other tenants for months now, he wants to make money on the land.”

I’m staring at Makri in bewilderment. I can’t think why she’s telling me this. It almost sounds like she expects me to do something about it.

“You have to do something about it.”

I finish off my klee.

“Me? What? Why?”

“The owner got the go-ahead from Prefect Drinius, but it’s illegal to demolish the block without permission from the Consul’s office.”

I shrug.

“Happens all the time. If the local Prefect says its okay, the owner’s not going to wait for the Consul to screw things up. Just mean another bribe to pay.”

“They can’t evict Samanatius! He’s a great man.”

I don’t care one way or the other about Samanatius.

“You have to stop it.”

“Makri, what gives you this bizarre idea that I could do anything? I’m an Investigator, not a planning inspector.”

“You’re a Tribune of the People. You can halt any building work by referring it to the Senate for adjudication.”

My head swims.

“What?”

“It’s part of the power invested in the Tribunes. They could do lots of things to protect the poor. Stopping landlords from demolishing buildings was one of them.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m not. I looked it up in the library.”

“That was a hundred and fifty years ago.”

“Their powers were never rescinded.”

“But I’m not a real Tribune. It’s only a device to get me into the Assemblage.”

“It doesn’t matter,” declares Makri firmly. “Cicerius made you a Tribune and it’s legal. You now have the full power of the Tribunate behind you and you have to do something.”

I grab for the klee. It’s empty. There must be a beer round here somewhere.

“Makri, this is insane. I’m sorry your buddy’s getting evicted but I can’t stop it. What the hell is Cicerius going to say if I suddenly start using my supposed power to order the local Prefect around? The Senate would go crazy. So would the Palace, probably. I’d have the whole government on my back. Who is the landlord anyway?”

“Praetor Capatius.”

“Capatius? The richest man in Turai? Controls about forty seats in the Senate? Sure, Makri, I’ll take him on any time. Easy as bribing a Senator. I’ll just tell him to please stop behaving badly. Be reasonable.”

“You can do it,” insists Makri. “It’s part of your power.”

“I don’t have any power,” I roar, frustrated by her insistence. “And have you forgotten what else is going on right now? I’m in the middle of a case that’s quite probably going to end up with me rowing a slave galley and Lisutaris dangling on a rope. I’ve got Sorcerers, the Deputy Consul, and an election to worry about, not to mention Covinius, deadly Assassin, in case you’ve forgotten. And you expect me to march up to Prefect Drinius and say, ‘Excuse me, you have to stop this eviction because I’m a Tribune of the People’?”

“Yes.”

“Forget it.”

“Samanatius will not be evicted.”

“I can’t prevent it.”

“I’ll kill anyone who tries,” threatens Makri.

“Good luck. Now excuse me, I’ve got an investigation to be getting on with.”

I grab my warm cloak and depart swiftly. Stop the eviction indeed. Use my powers as Tribune of the People. That would certainly give the local population something to laugh about. They’d still be laughing when Praetor Capatius hired twenty armed men to chase me out of Twelve Seas.

It takes a long time to find a landus. I’m cold. I wish I had more beer inside me. I wish I wasn’t always having to visit the Deputy Consul. For a man who paid out good money only a few days ago to hire me, he shows a great lack of enthusiasm to see me when I finally roll up at his house.

“What do you want?”

“Beer. But it’s usually in short supply round here, so I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“Have you disturbed me merely to request alcohol? I have an important appointment with Tilupasis.”

“She’s an efficient woman, Tilupasis. Sharp as an Elf’s ear. You ought to make her a Senator. I need to talk to Rezox. I threw him in the slammer a week or so back and I need some quick access. It’s to help Lisutaris.”